Friday 1 March 2019

Start complaining about the lifts, soon you're doxing your own mum and eating the dog or Joanna Lumleys smashed in face (DRAFT/UNFINISHED)

The streets are callused
   thick sealed in getting home 
    has been for you the waiver of
sun is blameless merit or decent 
in perfect blocked count the failure in
       steady hand perform 
       the kitchen door,
 a hallway memorial in erotic dirge
mothers sleep tidied
       in unworking 
    blocked-up pedestrian 
       handicapped access
expected inshore shout 
    half-way through
            semi-elliptical path 
   during the rubbing 
motion of security as
     its bifurcates horses 
camped denying  access to 
   water-toilet facilities 
in a crush injury situation, 
      topped in the city obelisk the
real flagstones are arguably 
    the best views in London gone
and widening areas we use for making 
       the work of conditioning,  
postpone my sleep-mode 
    in all parameter types 
a small trapeze band 
 than I live in scaffolds tissue of phone 
calls appropriate
 and propionate hush  
manipulates body plan 
         for food under the threat of cheaply 
chlorinated rubber floor paint 
as the lengthening of time
        smarty faced to bake in laurels 
the vaudeville of rich make it out 
       in seconds blip asunder in 
inquisition blots it brightly in
           crane verdure for a 
    capital city every day 
peats over town 
      hallways billed in body fat 
is hard to set alight intact choked 
      the number benefit 
         stem of green-fingered 
       hate-object escapes 
root enquiry for view-strip in air
     as unconsenting flick
over you are teeth it 
lets every age happen
         by archiving properties during use the 
        home keening under snag corridors 
    stealed out chronic 
drinkers the yard-long meadow is 
      a poly-fillered pity line 
over clever heteroclite, 
         history top polished off white ulcer 
as social hypocrisy 
of a goods lift rehearses 
the geraniums would be fine